


Love Spell

by Silverfox579, super_duper_cool_kid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, abraxas is a wingman, dumbledore is suspicious, fake-amortentia, harry is best boi, slughorn is both most helpful and least helpful, tom is a bit of an idiot, tomarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:22:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverfox579/pseuds/Silverfox579, https://archiveofourown.org/users/super_duper_cool_kid/pseuds/super_duper_cool_kid
Summary: Harry had - in his opinion - been doing a grand job at this whole 'de-aged and hurled into the past' fiasco.He'd sorted Hufflepuff through semi-threatening the Sorting Hat, become the guardian entity of all muggle-borns and half-bloods, and himself rivals with Tom Riddle and his gang...Yes, he thinks. Everything had been going oh-so-well... until Riddle had gotten Amortentia spilled on him.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 47
Kudos: 395





	1. falling, falling, tripping in love

**Author's Note:**

> For super_duper_cool_kid, who's a sweet dear and managed to get me to fish this out from the shelves.
> 
> no - super_duper_cool_kid (kelly)

Harry is quite certain that before this whole affair, he had been doing a very good job.

It had all started after the Battle of Hogwarts, when he woke up and tripped over Ron's leg. The next thing he'd known, he'd been falling from the sky and crash-landed straight onto first-year Tom Riddle.

Getting de-aged and hurled back fifty years into the past wasn't actually the strangest thing he'd been through. After griping through denial and grief, he'd decided to roll with it as best as he could, like he did every strange thing thrown his way.

So he'd gladly sorted Hufflepuff. If he'd semi-threatened the Sorting Hat to get there, well, no one had to know about that.

He became a proud badger, and had happily become the enemy of all Slytherins, foiling every single one of their plans to bully students.

Oddly enough, he'd also become extremely popular with every house other than Slytherin. But even they didn't seem to hate him too much. Well, too much, anyway.

Things had been going fine. Sure, he might be in the same year as Riddle, have to share the same classes with Riddle, sometimes work on the same projects with Riddle, but he had been able to persevere through it all.

He declared Tom Riddle to be his eternal rival as an excuse to meddle with the mini Dark Lord. Malfoy had actually taught him a thing or two- with the excuse of rivalry, none of the professors grew suspicious or saw fit to intervene.

He hated Riddle and Riddle hated him. They clashed in everything- dueling, potions, transfiguration, herbology, politics, ideology - everything.

Things were actually going okay. The light seemed to be visible at the end of this long, tiring tunnel.

Hadn't he done well? He'd prevented Riddle from opening the Chamber of Secrets by sneaking into the Headmaster's office and stealing the Sword of Gryffindor, opening the chamber, and having a nice long 'chat' with the basilisk inside.

Heck, he'd even removed that book with the Horcruxes in it, giving it to Dumbledore after confessing to sneaking around at night, looking at forbidden books.

He'd gotten a weeks detention...but it was so worth it.

Anyway, Harry had done a good job. He'd done really well, okay? So why were the gods, Merlin, Fate - anyone - punishing him like this?

"What's wrong, darling?" Riddle smiles at him in a sickeningly sweet way, his eyes clearly worried. "Are you feeling okay?"

Yes. This. This is what's wrong.

Let's review.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

October 31. Harry has always hated this day.

Being in a different time and younger body won't change that. He sighs heavily as he enters the potions classroom, running a hand through his hair.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Algie Longbottom - Neville's grandfather's brother - asks him, concern clear on his face. "You've been sighing a lot today."

"I'm fine," Harry smiles reassuringly. But his shoulders remain tense. "Just kind of stressed."

"What's this? Evans, stressed about potions?" Abraxas Malfoy, as dickish - actually, kind of worse - as his future grandson. He sneers arrogantly at Harry. "If you're not feeling well, why don't you high-tail it to the infirmary, Evans?"

Harry smiles brightly. "Are you worried about me, Abraxas? Don't worry, I'm fine. Thanks so much for your concern!"

Malfoy - predictably - splutters. "Who's worried about you?! Forget it! I'm losing brain cells just talking to you."

The ultimate attack against Slytherins - airheaded friendliness. Thank you, Cedric, for teaching him this great secret of life.

"Still, you do seem quite distracted." Riddle chips in his own two-bits, setting up his station for potions, a smile pasted on his face. His designated 'Prefect' smile. "Not just this year, but you're always distracted on Samhain."

"I'm not so distracted that you'd be able to beat me, Riddle." Harry immediately retorts. "No need to show fake concern, or that damn smile."

"Now, now, settle down, boys." Slughorn comes over, smiling jovially. "Ah, youth! Why, I remember my own days as a student! Your rivalry really is quite something. But first, you need to pay attention in class."

"Right- sorry." Harry smiles sheepishly. "What are we doing today anyway, professor?"

"Today we are brewing Amortentia." Slughorn says, waving his wand. Chalk begins to write instructions on the board. "Can anyone tell me what Amortentia is?"

"A love potion," Riddle answers, his eyes emotionless. "When brewing, it will emit a scent that appeals to the brewer."

Slughorn nods proudly. "And what say you, Harry?"

"It's a mind-controlling drug," Harry says sharply. "It's no different than the Imperio."

The distaste and anger that Harry feels must appear on his face, because Slughorn blinks in surprise. "You seem to feel quite strongly about this, Harry."

Harry inwardly winces and recovers with, "It's just a really terrible potion. All it does is hurt people- the brewer, the recipient, and any children they might have."

"Indeed," Slughorn nods. "So be very careful when brewing, all of you! We don't want any accidents here. Now, feel free to start! I'll be walking around and checking each of your cauldrons at the end of the period."

Consent is thrown around and Harry gathers the ingredients, only to halt when he and Riddle reach for the same grass.

"Think you'll be able to beat me today, Harry?" Riddle jibes, a hint of a smirk on his face. "No need to feel ashamed. We all know potions isn't exactly your strong point."

Harry bristles, snatching the grass. "Shut it, Riddle. I'll definitely beat you today. And even if I don't, there's still transfiguration next period."

"So confident," Riddle sighs, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Will you ever give up this pointless little rivalry?"

"We are graduating soon," Harry says grudgingly, carefully taking the vials he needs. "I doubt we'll see each other again out of Hogwarts, so you can rest easy."

Riddle pauses a half a second too long, making Harry raise a brow at him. "What?"

"You don't plan to enter the Ministry?" Riddle asks, his voice a bit odd. "Or are you going to leave Britain entirely?"

Harry looks away, his eyes dark. "...who knows? Traveling doesn't sound too bad. If you want to try dealing with all the fools in the Ministry, you can go right ahead."

Riddle opens his mouth to say something but then seems to - uncharacteristically - hesitate.

Whatever he was going to say is cut off when Algie calls, "Harry, do you have the ingredients? We need to start soon!"

"Coming!" Harry calls, turning away. "Anyway, it doesn't matter that much. You hate my guts anyway, right? You should be glad."

He walks back to their station and quickly begins to chop up the grass, smiling sheepishly when Algie says, "What were you doing over there, sleeping?"

"Sorry, sorry," He rubs the back of his neck. "Come on, let's hurry up and get this done. Today's the day that I topple Riddle from his position as the top student in potions."

Algie shakes his head fondly. "You and your rivalry. Why do you hate Riddle so much anyway?"

Harry hesitates, his chopping slowing. "...it's not that I hate him. He just pisses me off. Our personalities just don't mix."

Algie shrugs. "It's kind of weird though. I mean, you guys match each other really well. You're both amazing at dueling, and you're practically geniuses! It's a pity you can't work together."

At that, Harry regains his bearings, snorting as he throws the grass into the cauldron. "Work together? Me and Riddle? Algie, did you hit your head or something?"

Algie laughs. "I guess so. Maybe it's all the fumes? Merlin knows that this place needs windows or something!"

Harry joins him in laughter. In no time at all, the class flies by, and Slughorn begins coming around to check the individual potions.

"Yes, yes...ah, excellent work, Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom!" Slughorn winks. "So, what do you two smell? A lady's perfume, perhaps?"

Algie blushes deeply and Harry grins knowingly. He's not really into inbreeding - it's quite gross, in his opinion - but Algie really has it deep for Augusta. They're far enough on the family tree that they're barely related anyway.

It's kind of weird to think of that confident but well-meaning prefect as the stern old woman that Harry knew. This time though, if Harry can help it, she won't live such a harsh life.

"Lavender," Algie mumbles, the tips of his ears reddening. "I smell lavender."

Slughorn smiles warmly and turns to Harry. "What about you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry closes his eyes and smells the potion. When he opens them again, his heart is throbbing, his eyes sad but warm. "...lilies. I smell lilies."

Slughorn seems to sense something because he clasps Harry's shoulder gently. "She must be a very beautiful girl."

"She was," Harry smiles, the image of Lily Potter clear in his mind even now. "The most beautiful and kindest woman I knew."

Slughorn nods and leaves them with full marks, and Harry pauses halfway through cleaning up the cauldron.

It's subtle, but another scent seems to briefly enter his nose. Lillies dominate most of the smell, but just barely, he seems to be able to smell something heavier, something...

Ash? He thinks curiously, hesitantly taking a deeper whiff. Definitely ash. Did James Potter smell like ash?

"Hurry up, Harry." Algie calls. "Everyone's probably waiting for us at the tables right now."

"Ah- right." Harry quickly finishes cleaning up, pushing the scent out of his mind. Well, whatever. Maybe his nose is just off today. "Ready to go, Algi-"

"Kyaaa!"

Harry's head whirls around at the cry of alarm, his wand already in his hand. But as soon as he turns around, he finds his eyes locked with a soaked Riddle, who stares at him unblinkingly.

"Give the boy some space!" Slughorn calls, pushing through the forming crowd. "Tom! Tom, my boy, are you alright?"

"You mudblood- how dare you do something like this!" Malfoy hisses at the girl whose cauldron must have fallen. "When I speak to my father-"

"It was just an accident." Harry quickly defends, his eyes narrowed. "Or would you like to take this into the hall, Malfoy?"

Malfoy backs off, his face clearly angry but also not willing to get into a full-on duel for this. "Then what are you going to do to compensate this, Evans?"

"Let's ask Riddle," Harry retorts, turning to Riddle, who's still staring at him. "Er, Riddle? Hey, what's wrong with you?"

"Harry..." Riddle suddenly stands and stalks over to Harry, hugging him tightly. "Harry, would you really leave me? Leave Britain? I don't think I can live without you..."

Harry freezes in shock, his wand nearly falling from his hand. "R-Riddle?! What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"The Amortentia must be affecting him." Slughorn grimaces, giving Harry a pointed look. "Amortentia has different affects. Since he was soaked with it, it'll make him fall in love with the first person he looks at. That is, you, Mr. Evans."

Harry feels like the words rush straight past him. His own voice sounds faint to his ears when his lips move. "What?"

"Are you saying that Tom is in love with this...thing?" Malfoy gestures to Harry quite rudely, his face twisted into a grimace.

"I resent that." Harry retorts automatically, trying to budge out of Riddle's arms. "And you, let go of me!"

"Do you hate me, Harry?" Riddle asks, pulling away just enough that they're face to face, his eyes deeply saddened, open in a way Harry would have never imagined in his worst nightmares.

"What?" Harry's brain swims, trying to keep up. "Er, yes? We hate each other, remember? We're rivals?"

"I see..." Riddle calmly backs off and pulls out his wand, casually pressing the tip of it against his head. "Then I have nothing to live for."

"What?!" Harry blurts out, real panic hitting him now. Shit. Riddle is so out of it that he would actually try to commit suicide?!

That means that this is serious. Like, really, really serious.

"I don't hate you!" Harry quickly says, grabbing Riddle's arm and yanking it away from his temple. "Don't even joke about dying, Riddle!"

"So you love me!" Riddle says, a delighted smile breaking out on his face. "I love you too, Harry!"

"What?!?!" Harry quickly backs away. "When did I say that?! Just- look, Riddle, you're obviously sick, so let's go to the infirmary, okay? Madam Prewitt should be able to fix you right up. Right, professor?"

"Madam Prewitt will have more knowledge on how to deal with this than me." Slughorn agrees. "For now, will you take him there, Mr. Evans?"

Harry grimaces but nods. "Fine. I suppose you're coming too?"

Malfoy huffs, collecting both his and Riddle's bags. "Of course. Tom is my friend, so it's only natural that I'm incredibly worried."

Harry narrows his eyes. That's not the reaction that Malfoy would usually have. He's too calm. But then again, it's not as if Malfoy and Riddle are actually friends- they're really just using each other.

"Harry, can we hold hands?" Riddle tugs at his hand, distracting him from Malfoy's unusual behavior. "I don't want to walk by myself."

Harry lets out a long breath, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Professor...he can be fixed, right? Right?"

Slughorn shrugs helplessly. "I've never personally seen this sort of situation before, so I'm afraid I don't know, my boy. But all potions wear off eventually. It's simply a matter of how long."

"Right." Harry nods decidedly, forcing the discomfort out of his mind. He grabs Riddle's hand and stalks out. "Then we'll go to the infirmary."

"Wai- Harry?" Algie stumbles after them, bags in hand.

"Sorry, Algie, can you drop my stuff of at the dorm?" Harry calls.

"Sure," Algie calls back, nodding. "Tell me what happens after, okay?"

Harry turns back to the corridors, his mind focused on the goal at hand. He does his best to ignore the stares and whispers that follow as he walks through the hall holding Riddle's hand.

"Do you have to walk in such a public place?" Malfoy hisses from his left. "At this rate, all sorts of rumors are going to start! And besides, where are you going anyway? This isn't the way to the infirmary!"

"Do you care about rumors or getting Riddle back to normal?" Harry retorts, glancing around the hall. "And clearly, Malfoy you know nothing about Hogwarts."

Harry walks up to one of the suits of armor and finds the familiar painting beside it. "Sorry about this, but can I use this passage? I'll polish your armor when I get back."

"What are you doing?" Malfoy snorts. "Talking to armor now, Evans? How you've fallen-"

He's cut off when the armor begins to rumble, stepping out of the way as the wall opens up, revealing a dusty path.

"Thanks," Harry grins at the armor, who offers a thumbs-up in return. "Come on, Malfoy, are you coming or what?"

"How did you know about this passage?" Riddle asks softly as they walk through.

"Haven't you ever explored the castle?" Harry replies, stuffing back a shudder. Riddle's voice should not be that soft and gentle. "Hogwarts isn't just some castle. She's magic."

"Is that why you've got so many detentions?" Malfoy asks curiously.

Harry snorts. "Of course not. Do you really think I'd get caught? Those detentions are from stopping your housemates from being bloody bastards to the rest of us."

Malfoy sneers. "You and your muggle-loving philosophy."

Harry shoots the boy a dirty look. "And what's so wrong about thinking that life might matter? Not just muggles, but muggle-borns, half-bloods, even you purebloods- I see no difference between any of you."

"As if!" Malfoy says, his voice slightly bitter. "If it were a pureblood being bullied, would you ever stand up for them?"

Harry halts in his steps, and looks Malfoy in the eye seriously. "I would. Without hesitation."

Malfoy swallows and then looks away. "...shut up. You're so annoying. If this is a shortcut, then why aren't we there yet?"

Harry rolls his eyes, letting the previous topic slide. "Come on, this way."

They walk through the cobblestone path and come to a wall. Harry taps on it three times and it opens up, revealing the infirmary.

"Who- Mr. Evans!" Madam Prewitt walks over to them, sighing. "How many times have I told you not to use this path? Don't tell me you're here with injuries again- oh my."

"Riddle got hit with Amortentia in class." Harry quickly explains, stepping to the side so the other boy can step out of the path. "It's made him weird. Slughorn seems to think he's fallen in love with me or some kind of shite."

"Language," Madam Prewitt says sternly. "And it's Professor Slughorn, Mr. Evans. Well, come along then. And why are you here, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Tom's my friend." Malfoy says seriously.

Madam Prewitt raises a clearly skeptical eyebrow that makes the pureblood sweat a bit. Then she huffs and turns away. "Well, why don't you sit down, Mr. Riddle? I'll go through a few simple diagnostic spells first."

Riddle nods and turns to Harry, smiling warmly. "My love for you is real. But don't worry, Harry, if this puts you at ease, then I'll do it."

Harry deadpans. "Riddle, you're seriously going to regret this when you wake up."

Riddle smoothly grabs his hand and presses a kiss to the back of it, his eyes looking up at Harry, long eyelashes revealing his deep blue eyes. "I never regret a single second I spend with you, Harry."

Harry flushes straight to his ears, his whole face burning as he yanks his hand away. "You- You bastard! If you weren't so clearly out of it, I'd punch you in the face!"

Riddle just smiles brightly.

As Madam Prewitt goes through her various spells Harry plops down on one of the available seats, the heat slowly fading from his face as he calms down.

He can't help it, okay? He has absolutely no immunity to things like that, and not to mention, Riddle isn't exactly an ugly bloke. It was one of the things that Harry despised about him, the way he used his looks to manipulate others into trusting him...

Harry grimaces, recalling the memory of Diary Tom. That's right. He shouldn't be moved by something like this. What he needs to do right now is get Riddle back to normal.

Well, anyway, when he wakes up, Riddle is seriously going to hate him. Tom Riddle despises love potions, after all, and the thought of loving anyone probably makes him sick to his stomach.

"You're really weird, you know," Malfoy takes a seat beside him. "Most people would be ecstatic to have Tom Riddle in love with them. And don't tell me it's because you hate him- you wouldn't be helping him otherwise."

"Riddle isn't himself," Harry replies, crossing his arms. "This whole thing was an unfortunate accident. And anyway, who would be happy with a love potion?"

"But you're not opposed to the thought of being loved by Tom?" Malfoy presses.

Harry snorts, his eyes stormy as memories rush through his mind. "The day Tom Riddle falls in love with someone is the day house-elves finally revolt against all of us."

"Tom can love people." Malfoy protests. "He's very popular."

Harry looks at him pointedly. "He can make people love him. Anyway, what does it matter to you? If you're jealous, take it somewhere else."

This time, Malfoy snorts. "No offense, but as much as I admire Tom, being the subject of his affection isn't something I'd want. He's incredible, sure, but that kind of pressure, all the time? I wouldn't be able to handle it."

Harry raises a brow. "Pressure?"

Malfoy looks at him balefully. "You wouldn't recognize it. You're the same as him, after all. In fact, you're worse! People practically fall at your feet."

"No they don't!" Harry protests. "Sure, I have a lot of friends, but-"

Malfoy snorts derisively. "Evans, I bet if you asked any one of those 'friends' for a country, they'd happily form an army under your name."

Harry narrows his eyes, irritated. "Not all friendships are based on give and take, Malfoy. I would never ask anything like that from my friends."

"Which is why people love you so much." Malfoy points out, in a strange, indirectly complimenting way. "You're so bloody nice it's irritating."

Harry looks to the ceiling, fed-up. "It's called being decent, Malfoy. There are plenty of other nice people in Hogwarts. Not that you'd bother looking since you're so happy brooding in your den with all the other snakes."

Malfoy bristles. "Now look here-"

"He's perfectly fine." Madam Prewitt interrupts them, frowning. "There's nothing wrong with him physically. I can only assume that there was some kind of mental effect that my spells can't detect. Your best bet is to simply wait for it to wear off."

Harry pales. "Wait. You mean there's nothing you can do?"

She looks at him in sympathy. Kind of. "He'll be very sensitive to your goodwill, so make sure you treat him well, okay? I'll inform the Headmaster, so it might be good for the two of you to share a room as well. Tom is a prefect, so he'll have his own room."

"Share a room?" Harry echoes. "But-"

"No buts, Mr. Evans!" She says strictly. "I'm sure you can handle this responsibility, right? Otherwise, I might accidentally let what happened a certain night on a certain day slip to the Headmaster..."

Harry gapes at her. "That's blackmail!"

"An astute observation," She replies dryly. "Now run along. Tonight is busy- so many children love to overeat sweets. I've told the Headmaster time and time again but he never-" She sighs. "Well, anyway, come back if he shows any signs of fever or hallucination."

Harry stands numbly in the hallway, his head whirling.

No way...

Damnit!

Bloody Potter Luck...bloody Halloween!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now he's here, sitting at the Slytherin table, for some unfathomable reason, Riddle unashamedly sticking to him.

"Wait, seriously?" Cygnus Black looks at Harry is clear surprise. "I'm surprised you haven't thrown him off a cliff yet, with your temper."

Harry gives him a dry look. "I wouldn't have as much of a temper if you just stopped trying to pick on first-years, Black."

"Still, this means that, however temporary, you will be living in the Slytherin dorms." Ruphard Lestrange points out, folding his hands together. "Evans. In the Slytherin dorms. With his wand, and Tom on his side."

The mood quickly drops.

Harry rolls his eyes. "You can calm down. I'm not going to abuse this situation. Anyway, it shouldn't last that long."

"I wouldn't be optimistic." Atticus Avery says, his voice decidedly neutral. "Most of us in your year know by now not to mess with you, Evans, but you're not exactly popular in Slytherin."

"And?" Harry leans an elbow against the table, a rare smirk flitting across his face. "Let them come. There are a couple of spells I've been meaning to try out anyway..."

Malfoy shudders, then shakes his head. "You're many things, Evans, but a Hufflepuff is not one of them. How in the world did the Sorting Hat put you there?"

Harry blinks innocently. "Why, it's because I'm so fair and hard-working, Malfoy. Anyway, I guess I'll just figure it out as I go."

"Then let's head back to our room." Riddle decides, smiling and taking Harry's hand.

Right...another thing to get used to.

Harry sighs and lets Riddle tug him along. "Well, you can blame yourself for any weird rumors later."

(The most irritating part, Harry decides, settling himself on the couch, Riddle's insistence on using the bed very clearly ignored, is that Harry can't actually get mad at Riddle.

Really. What in the world did he do to deserve this?)


	2. getting places...and getting nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tom is trying to be seductive. harry is too pure and heroic to really notice. but things are getting somewhere...kind of...

"Good morning, Harry."

Harry squints as Riddle smiles at him, sparkles and all. What the fuck. Like seriously, what the bloody fuck.

"...good morning?" Harry tries and fails to not sound weirded out. "Er- Riddle, why were you staring at me?"

Riddle tilts his head, smile completely innocent. "Staring? At who?"

Harry sighs and sits up, stifling a yawn. Right...Amortentia...rooming together... "I'm a light sleeper. If you need something, just wake me up directly next time."

"I didn't mean to wake you," Riddle replies. "I just wanted to watch you sleeping. But it seems that you didn't sleep well."

 _I wonder why,_ Harry thinks sarcastically. Outwardly he says, "I'm the kind of person who takes a while to get used to a new environment. Nothing enviable."

Nightmares have never stopped plaguing him. Before, he had Hermione and Ron to stay up with him at night, but here, even though the Hufflepuffs are all very kind to him, he can't say that he considers any of them on the same level as Hermione and Ron.

Harry runs a hand through his hair and gets up, wandlessly casting a Tempus charm. "Do you always get up this early?"

"I'm a light sleeper." Riddle echoes his words. "The Great Hall isn't open for another hour or so. Are you hungry?"

"Not really." Harry says, glancing at Riddle. "You?"

Riddle shakes his head. "Also...I'd like it if you called me 'Tom'."

Harry's hand twitches but he admirably does not react. "I'm good. Riddle, even if you've fallen in love - if that's even possible - you can't have lost your common sense. We don't get along. That's just how it is."

"That's how you want it to be." Riddle corrects, suddenly cupping a hand against Harry's cheek. "But that's not how I want it to be."

"Again, potion." Harry breaks away, his expression determined. "I'm not going to let you take advantage of me, and I'm not going to take advantage of you. I'll stick around so you don't do something stupid like kill yourself, but otherwise, nothing has changed."

Riddle tilts his head. "Then why did you let me hold your hand yesterday?"

Harry flushes slightly. "Because I was in a rush! Look, let's just keep things- professional, okay? You're still a bastard- this potion fiasco doesn't change that."

Riddle seems to wilt. "So you hate me?"

"No!" Harry groans. "But we're very different people. You're into blood purity and I'm most definitely not. I'm not even sure how much of this is real or not. You're a bloody good actor when you want to be."

"Then look at my actions, not my words." Riddle says, smiling. "And I don't think we're as different as you want us to be. We're both half-bloods, both powerful wizards, and we're both very charismatic. Don't tell me you haven't noticed? We fit, opposites but equals."

The wording makes Harry jerk slightly. "Equals? No. You don't consider anyone your equal."

"Why do you think that?" Riddle asks softly, holding Harry's gaze. "I would have never entertained a rival other than you. In a sense, you really are my rival...though I'd prefer if we weren't at odds all the time. I've always wanted to work with you, rather than against you."

Harry hesitates briefly. It's true that Riddle had definitely participated in this whole 'rival' claim. Harry had thought it was arrogance, that Riddle wouldn't accept someone daring to compete with him, but in retrospect, it might have not been like that.

Still. "Potion, Riddle. I know you don't have a poor memory."

"I'm very clearly able to distinguish my thoughts from before and after the potion." Riddle replies calmly. "It's true that now I feel a strange pull to you, as if your every action has suddenly been incredibly appealing, but I also know that I admired you before this as well."

Harry blinks, and then gapes. "Wait, then that means that you were just acting yesterday!"

Riddle smirks a little, unrepentant. "I might have overplayed it a little bit. But that doesn't make my feelings any less genuine. Aren't you all about feelings and emotions?"

"When they're real," Harry retorts. "If you can resist the potion then you should be fine if I go back."

"I just told you, my feelings are still genuine." Riddle says, calmly reaching for his wand. "I was just taking advantage of the situation for a little bit before. If you leave my view, I think I'll still kill someone."

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Fine, I'll stay. But no more hand-holding or pet names, okay?"

Riddle smiles slyly. "If you call me by my first name, then I'll consider it."

Damn Slytherins. "No hand-holding and I'll show you a shortcut to the Room of Requirement."

"So you know about that too." Riddle's smile deepens. "As expected of you. Fine, I agree. And for the record, I'm quite certain you were meant to be a Slytherin."

Harry really hates to say it, but Riddle actually does know him pretty well, at least in certain things, just like Harry has a lot of private information about Riddle.

"Hey," Harry asks suddenly, his voice slightly off. "If you could live forever by killing someone, would you do it?"

Riddle slowly turns to look at him, head cocked. "...a little dark for you, no? Do you actually want an answer?"

Harry examines Riddle critically, and then shakes his head a little, scoffing at himself. "No. You're right. It doesn't matter anymore."

(No matter what kind of monster or savior Tom Riddle turns out to be in this timeline, in this world, Harry will continue to fight for what he believes in.

Wherever that path leads, as an enemy or an ally or a rival, this time, he will live without regrets.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ah, Harry. And young Tom. I've heard about your situation- quite the accident, indeed."

Harry smiles at Dumbledore politely. "We're not sure how long the potion will last. Does it bother you, professor?"

Dumbledore shakes his head with a kind smile. "Not at all. Rather, if someone gives you trouble, I'll be glad to help you out. I simply wished to let you know that."

"Thank you, professor." Ri- Tom smoothly intervenes, his smile slightly mocking. "We're so glad for your support of both of us."

Dumbledore's eyes become a bit obscured. "Of course, Tom. Such is my duty as a professor."

Harry, for one, resists sighing aloud. "We'll be late for herbology at this rate. Come on, not all of us can ace our NEWTS without studying."

And with that, Dumbledore bids them farewell.

Tom studies him curiously. "I've only ever seen you in class, when we're competing. It's interesting to see you like this."

Harry raises a brow. "I think that's definitely the potion talking right there."

"And you're so insistent to avoid attention, even though you seem to inadvertently place yourself in a spotlight wherever you go." Tom glances backward briefly. "Do you dislike Professor Dumbledore?"

"He's a good person." Harry replies vaguely. "He has good intentions."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions." Tom quotes. "Though I suppose in your case, you simply bend reality to match your resolve."

Harry actually kind of laughs at that one, simply because of how true it is. "It's not like I'm doing it on purpose. It's my bloody luck. It always comes back to haunt me."

"A bad experience?" Tom interjects with just a bit too perfect timing.

"Yes, and here's where I'll tell you every deep, traumatic incident in my life." Harry replies sarcastically. "I'm a Hufflepuff, not stupid."

"You'd be surprised how few that sentence can be applied to." Tom replies nonchalantly. "Even without this potion, I think I'd enjoy your company. Intelligent people are hard to come by."

Harry isn't even sure if he should be happy about that. For now, he just sighs. "Come on, we really will be late at this rate."

Tom smiles warmly at him. "Then should we skive together?"

Harry chokes on a laugh. "Tom Riddle? Skiving? No way! You'll kill me later! I've never seen anyone obsess over an attendance record like you. I'm not so cold-hearted as to break that record for you."

"It leaves a bad impression." Tom replies calmly. "Unlike you, some of us actually have to work to be favorable to others."

Harry almost retorts, but then suddenly reminds himself that he and Tom Riddle aren't supposed to be getting along at all.

This...might be a little harder than he thought. Damnit. Why must Tom Riddle - on top of everything else - also be okay company when polite?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry! Um, I heard that you and Riddle are a couple now. Congratulations!"

Harry deadpans at the second-year girl who says this with blushing cheeks. "We're not dating. Tom got hit with an Amortentia potion. Who the heck started those rumors in the first place?"

"But I heard from my brother that you didn't return to the Hufflepuff dorms last night." She says, confused. "And you left the dungeon this morning with Riddle."

Harry gains an irk mark. "People are actually spying on us? Look, it's just a case of circumstance. Riddle and I don't get along, at all."

She sighs remorsefully. "That's too bad, especially since you're on the top of the list for 'best couples in Hogwarts'."

Harry's blinks. Then gapes. "What?"

She nods, oblivious to his shock. "It's so romantic! You challenged Riddle because you like him, and the two of you match each other so well! I heard you guys flirt all the time in class!"

"That's called arguing, not flirting!" Harry takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. "What idiot comes up with these things anyway?"

"I guess we'll have to shut down the fan club." The girl muses. "And buy back all the merchandise."

Harry gapes and opens his mouth to comment when Tom decides to pop up, speed-walking toward him with his usual air of grace. "Harry. How was class?"

"Same as ever." Harry replies, raising a brow. "I didn't realize Ancient Runes required you to use your magic. And don't bother denying- I can clearly sense the drop in your reserves."

Tom blinks, then smiles widely. "You can sense my magic?"

Harry raises a brow, confused. "Yeah? I've been able to since first year, but that's normal since you've got so much of it."

"Actually that only happens between two people who know each other very well." The second-year chips in, eyes sparkling. "I knew it! You two are a couple!"

Harry gains another irk mark. "I just said-"

"Harry's a little bit shy." Tom smiles slightly, making the girl blush. "But we're very thankful for your support."

"O-Of course!" She quickly bows - seriously, what the heck? - and speeds away while saying, "The Tomarry Fanclub lives again!"

Harry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know what? I have nothing to do with this. And you didn't answer, Tom. Why were you using spells?"

"Just a few insects." Tom replies smoothly, smiling warmly. "Nothing to worry about."

"No, that makes me worry more." Harry deadpans. "You didn't hurt them badly, did you?"

"They have all their limbs intact." Tom replies generously.

Harry rubs the side of his head. Then he sighs. "Anyway, since you're here, I'll show you that shortcut. They better not be scarred for life though."

If there are still some fools who think they can tackle Tom Riddle on and win, then Harry can't do anything about that. He can't save everyone. It'll have to be good enough if they're safe and whole after this.

Tom watches with interest as Harry rolls up one of the tapestry's hanging from the wall, revealing an empty path behind it.

"It's amazing you've found all of these," Tom says, watching as Harry taps some of the stones, which rearrange the hall, changing the path. "I've explored a bit myself, but I've only found the Room of Requirement."

"I didn't really find them myself," Harry replies, walking through the hidden path. "I just talk with the ghosts sometimes. The house-elves also know a lot about the castle, though you have to kind of break down the question for them."

"House-elves?" Tom blinks in surprise. "You found the kitchens?"

"Some friends of mine showed me it first." Harry smiles, thinking of George and Fred. It wavers when he recalls Fred's body, still and unmoving. "Anyway, here we are."

"Where is this?" Tom asks, looking around. "We're still in the pathway."

Harry grins mischievously. "Well, there isn't only one entrance to the Room of Requirement. If there's a front door-"

"-then there's a back door too." Tom finishes, a hint of true awe in his eyes. "You found the back of the Room of Requirement."

Harry thinks of the D.A. training room and they watch as the pathway opens up, revealing a comfortable room with various training posts and a dueling platform, double doors on the other side of it.

"You have to specifically wish for an open back door," Harry explains as they walk in. "Otherwise the path won't open up. That's why people don't really know about it."

"You never fail to impress," Tom says, his face suddenly very close, eyes burning into him. "This is incredible, Harry. You managed to befriend the ghosts, who stay away from most mortal matters, and rediscovered ancient pathways lost to time."

Harry's face heats up slightly, both at their proximity and the words. "You're making it sound more impressive than it is."

"I wish you would see yourself for what you are," Tom leans forward, their breath mixing. "A treasure."

"That's nice!" Harry blurts out, skidding away from the boy, his face red. "Right. Got to go. Enjoy the room!"

Then he turns and practically flies out of the Room of Requirement, the nerves on his body tingling with a strange sensation.

What the heck?! What the heck is wrong with him? Tom is clearly out of it, and Harry said that he wouldn't take advantage of him!

So then why does it become so easy to believe, that Tom Riddle might actually be capable of love, of trust, of heartfelt emotion?

No, Harry smacks himself awake. It's all because of the potion. Once that goes away, Tom will return to being the cold, sneering pureblood-fanatic that Harry hated. He'll go back to being the Dark Lord.

(Still, even if just to himself, Harry can admit that it's almost nice to hear those words and to almost, almost be able to believe that he is loved.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twas fun
> 
> i feel like i should only edit at this point - kelly


End file.
